by Addison Fox
“Baby, you have no idea.”
* * *
“Nothing like a little geek love to get the blood pumping.” Aidan lay on his back, Meg sprawled over him. Her breath dragged in heavy pants in and out of her lungs and he abstractly wondered if they were going to kill each other in their rush to get reacquainted.
As he ran a lazy hand over her firm ass, Aidan acknowledged it would be an outstanding way to go.
She sat up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just ravished you in a library.”
“So?” The warm brown of her eyes tugged at him and a pang of discomfort began ringing bells in the back of his mind.
He shrugged. “So.”
“So I can tell by your tone you’re slightly embarrassed.” Meg shifted off of him to lay alongside his body.
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“Yes, you are. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Why do you seem to think your intelligence and love of learning is something to be sorry for?”
“I’m not sorry for anything.”
“So why the comment about geek love?”
“It was a joke, Meg.”
She stood and crossed the room to where they’d discarded his T-shirt upon their return home. Slipping it on, she continued on across the room to take a chair, the cotton swirling around her thighs. “No, it’s not. Why do you insist on hiding from who you are and from what makes you special?”
“I’m not hiding from anything.”
“You are. Just like before.”
Her words waved in front of him like a red flag in front of a bull and he got up from the bed, unwilling to stay horizontal. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Our fight that ended us. Tyrus set you up.”
“And you believed him.” The memories attacked with bitter clarity. The long moments when everything they had came crashing down around them.
The endless moments when it was clear she didn’t believe him. “You took Tyrus’s word that I’d taken that woman to my bed and you never gave me a chance to explain.”
Her eyes narrowed and he heard the quaver underneath her voice as she stared him down. “You never tried to explain. You just let me think what I wanted and you refused to engage.”
“I shouldn’t have had to engage in anything. You should have believed I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“You know what I am, Aidan. I can’t change that. I can’t fundamentally alter who I am.”
“I never suggested you should be something other than what you are. Fine, so you’re a Fury and you despise lies and infidelity. Punish humanity for that if you see fit. But don’t lay at my feet that you believed me capable of doing that to you. You judged me and found me guilty.”
“But you never defended yourself!”
“I shouldn’t have had to!” The words ripped from the very core of him. “I spent my life defending who I was, both literally and physically. To my father. To my community. Even to fucking Tyrus. I shouldn’t have had to defend myself to the woman I love.”
“Your father loved you.”
“I wasn’t a warrior, so no matter how much he valued my mind, my lack of strength as a small boy had him discarding me as worthless.” Memories long-buried swamped him. The desperate desire to prove himself, even while he loved to bury himself in his books and learning.
His father eventually came around and no one was more surprised than Philopoemen when Aidan had suddenly began growing at eighteen. By that time, it hadn’t really mattered any longer. Aidan had long passed the point of expecting—or needing—the love of his father.
“But you’re not worthless. You were never worthless.”
A harsh, bitter laugh dragged from his chest. “It took me a long time to get to a point where I could agree with that. And then you threw it back at me when you discarded what we had.”
* * *
Meg fisted the large T-shirt in her hands as nausea flooded her stomach and filled her throat with a harsh, metallic taste.
So much time had been lost. And through it all, she’d never known the depth of Aidan’s pain.
The secrets he harbored underneath the austere demeanor.
That was why he downplayed his intelligence. Why he refused to give full credence to books and knowledge and learning.
Because he’d been told it didn’t matter and, by default, that he didn’t matter.
“You’re right.” The words came from a place deep inside of her. The place where she buried all the worst parts of who she was. “Tyrus used us and he used who I am against me.”
“And you gave him that power.”
“Yes, I did.”
Meg stood and crossed the room to her discarded clothing. With quick movements, she shucked the T-shirt and began to dress.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting it back. He said he’d find me, wherever I was, after forty-eight hours. I’m going to go meet him.”
Aidan reached for his own discarded jeans. “Not alone, you’re not.”
“This isn’t your battle to wage, Aidan.”
“It’s as much mine as it is yours.”
* * *
Tyrus had been right, Eris thought reflectively as she paced the length of the hotel suite. The Destroyers had never returned with any sign of Meg and she could only assume they’d been handled. Enyo would be pissed, but when wasn’t her sister fuming and ranting over something.
She glanced at her watch once more and fought the rising unease brewing in her stomach.
Dragging her hands through her hair, she wondered when she’d gone soft. Was it something she needed to lay at Rogan’s feet?
Or had it started before the two of them started burning up the sheets, and Rogan was simply a handy excuse?
Even this little op. Sure, she was anxious to give Meg a taste of her own medicine, but now that the moment was here, she couldn’t really say she cared all that much.
For years, she’d taken great pride in her work. As the goddess of discord she had fun weaving her webs and working her cons.
But something wasn’t gelling.
A heavy thud sounded outside the hotel room door and she glanced up, drawn from her thoughts. The door swung open, slamming on its hinges as Tyrus stumbled through, a woman in his arms.
“What is this?”
Tyrus looked up, a bright gleam flashing in his dark eyes. “Bait.”
The discomfort she’d felt earlier—hell, the nagging feeling she always had when she was with him—coalesced into something solid and hard in the pit of her stomach. “What do you mean, bait? Who’s this woman, Tyrus?”
“She’s a worthless whore, but she’s also the insurance Meg will show up, just as planned.”
He tossed the semi-conscious woman onto the bed. Mascara had run down the woman’s face, forming dark, black circles under her eyes and her frame was gaunt and skinny, evidence of some very abusive choices.
Eris crossed to her when the woman moaned with a harsh, guttural cry of pain, but Tyrus moved into her line of vision. “Nope. Sit down.”
She fought the hitch in her stomach and forced as much disdain into her tone as she could. “Excuse me?”
“New rules, honey. Take a seat and let me explain.”
Before she could do anything further, a large knife gleamed in the soft glow of the hotel room lamps, the point perilously close to her throat.
“Don’t make me ask you again.”
CHAPTER NINE
Meg and Aidan didn’t have to wait long. A messenger had arrived on the front step of the brownstone, completely unaware of the contents of the package he delivered. They’d both known questioning him would only raise undue suspicion, so Aidan had accepted the parcel and sent him on his way with a big tip.
The simple package now lay on the counter, as she and Aidan circled around it. Along with a lock of dark hair that ensured Meg would have no doubt indentifying the sender, the enclosed no
te named of one of New York’s finest hotels as the site of Tyrus’s proposed showdown.
“He can’t possibly want all those bystanders around. The first rule of immortality is to avoid detection.”
“He has nothing to lose,” Aidan muttered as he flipped the note over in his hands. “Absolutely nothing.”
“How did he know we were here?”
“Because he’s made it his business to know everything about you. You think this just started a few weeks ago?”
“Of course not, but—” Meg broke off, knowing it was useless.
“We don’t advertise where we are, but our home’s not all that secret a location, either. All Tyrus needed was to know you came to me for help and he had the information he needed to find you.”
Aidan pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed a quick text, then turned toward her. “We need to go back to the library.”
“What for?”
“I just figured out what I was looking for. Quinn’s going to meet us there.”
Meg shook her head, confused by the change in topic. “You found something in the books?”
“I did, but I didn’t realize it at the time. Now I know.”
“What?”
“He’s not Enyo’s.”
Again, Meg couldn’t shake the sense of confusion, like she was swimming in syrup. “But the Destroyers. Who else would he belong to?”
“Her sister. Come on. We don’t have any time to lose.”
* * *
Aidan flipped through the old, brittle pages as fast as he dared. He hadn’t put it together before, even though the entry had grabbed his attention.
“What are you looking for?” Quinn paced behind him, the restless energy that drove him wearing a path in the ancient marble floor. Aidan had called the bull to meet them at the hotel as back up, but Quinn had pushed to come along.
“Don’t worry about that. Do you have a man at the hotel yet?”
“I’ve got a team watching and a sniper team across the way. The woman’s still alive and they think there may be a second hostage inside.”
“Let’s aim to keep her that way,” Aidan muttered as he continued flipping pages. Although they’d argued briefly about whether or not to free Tyrus’s hostage immediately, Meg had demanded they follow Tyrus’s instructions on the note. Keeping the woman alive was priority number one.
“Do your men know what they’re dealing with?” Meg probed.
“You mean immortals?”
“Yes.”
“No. All they know is they need to shoot to kill if he makes a move to hurt her. Otherwise, they’re to stay put and keep watch.”
Although Quinn kept who and what he was close to the vest, his security company had several trusted individuals who could be counted on in a pinch. Quinn used them sparingly, his instructions implicit.
“The snipers are trained on his head,” Quinn added. “A head shot’ll take down even an immortal, and my guys will be none the wiser.”
“Have you found what you’re looking for?” Meg leaned over his shoulder and Aidan found himself responding to her body heat as he leaned into her slightly.
“Not yet.”
“Why are we wasting time if you already know what you’re looking for?” Quinn demanded.
“Because we need to go to the source and I want to make absolutely sure I’m right. Tyrus is the instrument, nothing more. But if we want to destroy him, we have to understand what made him.”
“He’s not acting like an instrument, Aidan.” Meg leaned in even further. “He’s calling the shots.”
“That’s why we need to be sure. And if there is a hostage, to Quinn’s report, he may have turned on his creator.”
With a hard hand slap to the table, Aidan pointed to an entry on the newly-turned page. “Got it.”
“What?” Quinn and Meg asked in unison.
“Eris’s Golden Apple. That’s it.”
Meg shook her head as she pointed to a bright drawing on the page. “But the apple of discord causes problems. It doesn’t resurrect people from the dead, Aidan.”
“No, it’s exactly right.” Aidan turned in his chair to face both of them. “Think about it. Eris created the Golden Apple to cause problems at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis, the inciting incident that ultimately lead to the Trojan War.”
“I still don’t see the connection,” Quinn resumed pacing. “The apple was used as a tool. Tyrus is a resurrected human.”
“Who is a tool,” Meg added, “but that’s beside the point.”
Aidan couldn’t hold back his bark of laughter, but he did have to agree with her. “He is a tool, both literally and figuratively.”
“I’m still not following,” Quinn said.
“Eris had to create the apple. The absence of matter into matter. She engineered Tyrus in the same way.”
“I still don’t get it. What did she do? I assumed she resurrected Tyrus the same way Themis resurrected you both. And,” Meg added, “Enyo creates Destroyers. Isn’t this the same thing?”
“Different gifts, different manifestation of those gifts.” Aidan ran a hand through his hair and tugged, trying to think of the best way to explain it.
“Eris is the goddess of discord. Part of her gift—the same gift that allows her to create that discord—is the ability to create a sense of dissonance out of nothing. The apple is simply a physical manifestation of that.”
“But Tyrus was a human. And he still has all the same traits he had before, but now he’s immortal.”
“That’s where it gets interesting. If my estimates are correct, he’s really only a vessel.”
“Just like the apple?” Quinn pressed.
“Exactly. His new life was created out of nothing. It’s now a matter of sending him back to nothing.”
“But why would Eris give him up? If she created him, presumably she has a use for him.”
Aidan closed the book gently. “That’s what we need to find out.”
* * *
The woman remained unconscious and Eris was grateful for that. While she had no particular love of humans, this wasn’t what she had in mind as a way to lure Meg out.
Even if she chalked the prostitute up to collateral damage, the whole thing sat badly.
“Tyrus. We don’t need her. In fact, she’s going to call more attention to what we’re doing here. Why don’t you let her go?”
“No.”
His single word was immediate and implacable and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a little bit mad.
“So this is what you do when you’re not helping me? You tie up helpless women?”
“I do a whole lot more than tie them up.” Tyrus ran a hand down the woman’s leg, the gesture more than a little creepy for how gentle it was.
“I can’t let you do this, Tyrus.”
That hand flexed on the woman’s thigh before he turned toward her. “You don’t have a choice.”
“I do have some say in what you do and where you go. You’re here because of me.”
“You’ve been more than willing to overlook my personal interests in exchange for my services. But I think it’s time to renegotiate our deal.”
Eris debated the wisdom of porting from the room and going for help, but another glance at the helpless woman and the freak of nature she’d help bring back into the world and Eris rethought that approach.
There had to be another way.
Before she could think on it any further, the air around them exploded with activity.
And three people landed in the center of the room.
* * *
Meg didn’t miss the woman who lay unconscious on the bed as she landed in the hotel room wrapped in Aidan’s arms. Nor did she miss Eris, her lifelong enemy, where she sat across the room. Quinn had called off the snipers so they could port into the room undetected but now that they were here, she wasn’t quite sure how they were going to pull off Aidan’s plan.
He was convinced they could disassemble Tyrus, almos
t as if he were a piece of machinery.
But they hadn’t counted on Eris.
Meg wanted to have faith in Aidan—wanted to believe he knew what he was doing—but the entire process wasn’t logical. Tyrus was a flesh and blood human.
An immortal one, to boot.
How could Aidan possibly believe they could simply disarm him?
“I was hoping you’d bring him.” Tyrus never left the side of the woman who lay on the bed, instead turning to face them so he had her positioned behind him. “My childhood enemy.”
“We’re no longer children.”
“Ah, but the events of our childhood that made us are still alive and well,” Tyrus tapped his forehead. “Up here. Surely you know that better than anyone, Aidan.”
“Those years are long past.”
“Then why do I see fear in your eyes?”
Meg refused to glance at Aidan—refused to give Tyrus the satisfaction to see any hesitation in her gaze—but his words worried her all the same.
Especially in light of Aidan’s outburst earlier.
Did he live in the shadow of his father’s expectations?
Or could he find the strength to overcome his childhood enemy?
CHAPTER TEN
Aidan grit his teeth and allowed Tyrus’s words to bounce off of him. What had once had the power to wound, now was simply something to be endured until he could act.
Until he could leap on the asshole and fucking end him.
Quinn shifted, moving behind and to the left so they formed a phalanx. As the bull repositioned himself, Aidan took the opportunity to remove Meg from the immediate line of fire, placing his body between her and Tyrus.
There was no way he was letting go of her now.
The reality of that—the sheer simplicity of it—filled him, pushing away whatever residual muck Tyrus’s words had turned up.
He loved her and had never stopped loving her. And with startling clarity, Aidan knew what came before would never matter again.
“You are right about something, Tyrus. We aren’t children any longer. And the depraved games you’ve been playing since you were young are going to stop.”
